The strangest dream
by niagaraweasel
Summary: Title says it all. After an exhausting job, Chance has a strange dream. LOTR/HT crossover. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target, Lord of the Rings or anything else you might recognize and intend no copyright infringement.**

Their latest case had not been all that dangerous. No explosions, no jumping off buildings, no upside-down planes or any of the other crazy things that had become almost routine. Just a middle-aged actress who had needed protection from a deranged stalker intent on following the plot of her latest movie. But fending off her amorous advances had been almost as time-consuming and exhausting as tracking down and catching the stalker. Chance couldn't remember the last time he had been so glad to just fall into bed and sleep – preferably for a week. He barely managed to stay awake long enough for a shower and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

_The woods were black and silent. Too silent…. Making his labored breathing sound dangerously loud in comparison. At least his dark clothes blended with the shadows between the trees, rendering him all but invisible. There could be another Orc patrol around and he had no intention of running into one of those again._

_He caught his ankle in an overgrown tree root and went down hard, the knife wound across his ribs sending stabs of fiery pain through his body. He barely managed to get to his feet again, when he felt the tip of something sharp and pointy prodding his back. Immediately, his body went rigid._

_"What have we here? A Ranger caught off his guard?"_

_The words were spoken in a soft, female voice. Definitely not an Orc then… Since the owner of the voice didn't seem intent on killing him on the spot, he dared to turn around slowly. Before him, sword still in her hand but pointing toward the ground now, was an Elf. Tall and slender, with shoulder-length dark curls and beautiful eyes. Her wary gaze travelled over his body from head to toes and back, stopping at the hand that he kept pressed against the throbbing cut in his side. One eyebrow arched in a wordless question._

_"Orcs," he said. _

_The next words she spoke were in the Elvish tongue, which somehow made her voice even more melodious than before._

_"Im Alis__. Telin le thaed__." *I am Alis. I have come to help you.* When he didn't answer immediately, she tried again. "Heniach nin?"__*__Do you understand me?__* _

_"Hennion," he answered. *I understand*._

_A single sharp nod, then "__Le aphadar aen__". *You are being followed*. "__Anírach i dulu nín?" *Do you want my help?*  
><em>  
><em>He nodded. He hated to admit it, but even though the Orc knife had apparently not been poisoned, it had done enough damage to leave him more or less defenseless should he run into any more danger – which was a distinct possibility considering the way his luck had been going lately.<em>

_"Aphado nin. Avo visto. Andelu i ven." *Follow me. Do not stray.__The way is too dangerous.*__  
><em>_"__Be iest lîn__, __híril nín," __he answered with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice. *As you wish, __my lady*_

_Without another word his self-proclaimed guardian angel turned around and headed deeper into the woods._

_They walked for what seemed an eternity in absolute silence. He tried to keep up with her swift strides, but every step seemed to require more and more effort. _

_"Daro." *Stop* he softly called out to her. She looked around, frowning when she saw that he was practically swaying on his feet._

_"Havo dad," she said, guiding him over to a fallen tree trunk. *Sit down*._

_"Daro an îdh sí!" *We will stop for rest here.*_

_"Hannon le" *Thanks* _

_Gracefully Alis settled on the ground beside him._

_Suddenly, the sound of something – actually a couple of somethings – approaching broke the silence. Quick as a flash, she was on her feet again, sword drawn._

_"Glamhoth anglennol!" *Orcs are coming!*  
><em>

_Before he could even try to react, he saw her fall, an arrow piercing her chest. _

With a strangled gasp, Chance shot up in bed. Still caught in the grip of the nightmare, his eyes darted frantically around the room, half expecting to see a group of Orcs stepping out from the shadows.

He rubbed his hands across his face, trying unsuccessfully to banish the images from his mind. Quickly he got out of bed, walked over to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. Where on earth had *that* dream come from?


End file.
